The coast was clear.

All the same, Big Mook kept his eyes wide open as he tiptoed toward his baby. A big yellow Hummer, hidden surreptitiously behind some bushes. It wasn't an attempt on his life that Big Mook was worried about. Hell no, Big Mook had seen his shares of those before. Rather, it was what he had in his trunk.

Big Mook opened the back of his Hummer and unlocked a hidden floor compartment. His face lit up in a big smile. In the compartment was a ridiculously large assortment of guns. An extinction level event amount of guns. Although it wasn't people using his guns that Mook was worried about. Rather, it was the rather certain likelihood that they would use them without paying. Mook had came here hoping to sell them off to the usual shady types that would frequent a run-down circus out in the middle of nowhere, but he didn't expect them to be this shady. He certainly didn't expect what happened to Grandma Sue, his ninja Carlisle... shit was bad for business.

He locked and rehid the compartment, slammed the back shut, and climbed into the front seat. Next to him sat a half-empty picnic basket. He fished around until he found what he was looking for.

"Shit nigga, I've been waiting for this moment." he said, salivating, as he brought the funnel cake up to his lips.

tap tap tap

Mook jerked his head to the left to look out the window. No one was there.

tap tap tap tap

It was coming from the other side now. But once again, Mook didn't see anyone.

"This fuckin' circus man..." he shook his head as he sunk his teeth into the funnel cake.

Not a moment after, glass shattered over his head. A hand came reaching through the moon roof and grabbed him by his dank ass chain. In an impressive feat of strength, the attacker pulled Big Mook's big body up from his seat. The other hand came reaching in and swiftly swiped a razorblade across his throat. The killer dropped Mook's limp body back down.

With the last of his strength, Mook slowly chewed the piece of funnel cake in his mouth. Although it was mixed with copious amounts of blood, and seemed to have been stale for months, Mook couldn't remember the last time he had tasted something quite so good. It brought him back to simpler days, before the guns, the violence, the jail time. He was just a little Mook at the circus, him and his funnel cakes. The memory brought a faint smile to his lips. And then he slouched forward lifelessly, his head colliding with the horn.

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK

Janet chewed thoughtfully on a kiwi as she strode back to her tent. But not before her looking both ways, of course. She could handle all the lies, the treachery, the bloodshed of this night...but she was not about to become a damned jaywalker.

Janet had kept shy about the fact that she was a traffic cop. Sure, she wore her uniform, as she always does, but no one seemed to recognize what she was. Most mistaked her for military. Well enough, Janet thought to herself. Better for them to go on thinking that than for them to know what I truly am. A traffic cop is sometimes most effective when nobody even knows they're there, her old mentor Charles once told her. Of course, old Charlie was hit by a car about a week after he gave her that speech, but that was beside the point.

The coast was clear. Janet had begun to make her way across the dirt path when she glimpsed a dark figure approaching from the other way. She immediately knew what to do.

She pulled out her whistle and blew, then put her hand out in front of her, signaling them to stop. The figure seemed undeterred. She blew again, harder this time, and signaled them to stop, even more forcefully.

The figure still kept approaching. Janet was perplexed. She had seen some ne'er-do-wells in her days, but rarely did she see someone so blatantly disrespect the laws of right-of-way. She knew it was time for her last resort.

She reached into her purse and pulled out her stop sign. It was her pride and joy. Sturdy metal, lipstick red paint, and ultra-reflective. Even in the pale moonlight, it could be seen from far away.

But to Janet's dismay, the figure still did not stop. Her eyes widened in horror as they walked right up to her and wrested the sign away. Janet began to blow her whistle at the troublemaker before the sign came careening against her face, knocking the whistle and a few teeth out. Janet fell to her knees and scrambled around the dirt to regain her whistle.

Just as she was about to grab it, a boot came down hard and smashed it to pieces. Janet looked up as the sign came down edgewise against her neck, splitting it open.

Janet could only marvel at how sharp her pride and joy was, even after all these years together. She closed her eyes and waited for her beloved sign to end her life.

But the killer paused momentarily to ask her a question.

"Who are you working for...really?"

Janet's eyes shot open once more, as she defiantly looked her killer in the eyes.




























































"I would never reveal that secret."

The sign came down once more, and Janet's head went rolling across the road.